Saturday, April 12, 2008

untitled (march 2008)

Pointing at a picture, glued firmly in her memory but with a view blocked by scattered gatherings on the table, she says that’s the real me, or at least the me I need to be. Shoving aside casually the trinkets and charms, she reveals a confused white girl swarmed with small brown children.


((((I don't think this is done yet... but i cant think of anything else to write)))))

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